


The Siren

by DriVonTeese



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Cinematic Universe
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Jeremy Irons!Alfred, Masked Vigilantes, Reader is a Vigilante, Sassy Reader, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-08-21 17:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8254715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DriVonTeese/pseuds/DriVonTeese
Summary: Gotham has a new vigilante patroling the nights, named by the media as The Siren, she has become a symbol of hope to the women of the city. But Bruce is worried about her methods and decides to bring her under his bat-wing.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings friends! I know, I know, the Gotham Sirens is already a thing, but i like Sirens... Anyway, here's a Alfred/Reader fanfiction, becuse there was a serious lack of those. Constructive criticism is welcomed, enjoy!

 

 

> Gotham, as always, looks grim tonight, the night sky obstructed with heavy clouds that pour a light but persistent rain on the city. But there's no time to mind the rain as I chase a middle aged balding high school teacher down the shadowed narrow streets. 
> 
>     I corner the lowlife into an alley, he stops suddenly and terrified at the realization he hit a dead end, than turns around and walks back until his almost one with the wall. I smirk, my gun in my left hand, my knife in my right, the gloved grip firm as I walk further into the alley, taking slow and deliberated steps. His face has gone entirely white by the time he manages to speak, and his legs had given up supporting his weight:  
> 
> 
>    - What do you want from me?!  
> 
> 
>    I kick high, leaving a nasty bruise on his left cheek, and dig the thick high heel of my combat boot into his shoulder.  
> 
> 
>    - Remember Clara Foster? - his eyes widen - Because she remembers you.  
> 
> 
>    He stutters that he has no idea what I'm talking about. At this point I'm not sure if this annoys me or pleases me for it gives me the perfect excuse to break his nose.  
> 
> 
>    - I'm talking about that time you decided a 13 year old student would be a good fuck.  
> 
> 
>    He holds his bleeding nose with an hand while trying to say he'd never touch a student.  
> 
> 
>    - You sure about that Robert?  
> 
> 
>    - Y-yes!  
> 
> 
>    - Or do you prefer your birth name, Joseph Wright?  
> 
> 
>    - How do y-you-  
> 
> 
>    - I do my homework Joe, I also know you have 3 rape charges under that name, when you were teaching in your hometown. - I take my heel off of his shoulder and raise my gun to his temple - So, I'll ask again, are you sure you never touched a student~? Come on, you can tell me.  
> 
> 
>    - I'm sorry! I'm so so-sorry! I'll never touch anyone again! Oh my god, let me go, please! Don't kill me!” - He's begging, his eyes tightly closed, tears leaking from them.  
> 
> 
>    - Oh dear, I would never take a life, no~~ - I show him my right hand with my knife - but you're going to stay very, very still, I don't have the... steadiest... hold of a knife, you know~?  
> 
> 
>    He whimpers and tries to get away, but I press the gun to his temple harder and he stills. It takes me some minutes, he screams in pain here and there, but at last I step back and behold my masterpiece.  
> 
> 
> 'Pedophile' is carved in nasty cuts on his forehead, I smile down at him just before shooting his privates, he screams again.  
> 
> 
>    - If you try to cover your forehead with anything, I'm paying you another visit. Toodloo, Joey! - he's barely conscious but I know he won't forget the promise, I leave a pen drive with everything I found out on him on a necklace I place around his neck and call 911 just before leaving.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Here's the first actual chapter, enjoy :)

  
   Bruce was typing away furiously on the keyboard when Alfred entered the Batcave, 4 newspapers in hand, one of which national, all containing similar headlines: 'the Siren strikes again', 'Gotham's Siren: fighting violence with violence? ', 'Gotham's Siren is singing and men are listening' and 'Siren, a symbol against Rape culture'.   
  
   - Master Bruce, all first pages - he displays the papers on the table beside the computers.   
  
   - It's all over the Internet too. She's reckless, and has no sense of self-control. - Bruce sighs in exasperation.   
  
   - Dangerous. - the butler sums up, looking up to the screens which displayed all the research the masked vigilante had been doing trying to find who this Siren person was - What's the plan?   
  
   - I'll have to interrogate her targets, nothing on the media is credible, any CCTV footage she's in aren't any help since I can't use facial recognition over her mask and her measurements are quite within the norm.   
  
   - A visit from the Siren followed by one from the Bat? You think they'll be able to handle it?   
  
   - It's not like they were innocent souls Alfred, they did worst themselves.   
  
  
  
   When Bruce arrived, Alfred had all the preparations for DNA testing ready, apparently the Siren had, in fact, left a clue behind. Her first target, due to her lack of experience, was able to fight back, and ripped a necklace right off her neck. The police had no information on this, Bruce had to use some persuasion to get it from the man, himself.   
  
   As expected, the necklace did retain ripped skin from where it previously sat on her neck, but the DNA pulled from it was not on CODIS or any other criminal DNA database. he had to resort to searching for her on the field.  
  
   Bruce took to patrolling from the rooftops, Alfred's voice on the com as the butler searched for any trace of trouble in the CCTV cams. It had been nearly two hours of stopping little thefts and other small crimes when Alfred got sight of the Siren sneaking into a mansion in the nice part of town, it was owned by a CEO of a large company, and apparently the family was out of town. Bruce got to the Batmobil and took of to the mansion. Using all his martial art skills, he entered the house silently and started looking for her.   
  
   She was searching the CEO's office, no doubt looking for something, probably something that would prove he was a rapist, she was never reported to be a thief. She eventually did find what she was looking for, there was a box hidden in a secret compartment on the desk, probably souvenirs.   
  
   He left for the Batmobil without her noticing, and when she left the house, he followed her home, he passed the address to Alfred over the com, it took the butler barely a minute to find a name attached to it: Y/n L/n.  
  
   The following day, Bruce proceeded to find everything he could on Y/n. He couldn't, however, find anything unusual about her, she was an average 20 year old girl, working as a clerk in a library, finished high school with good grades, and there wasn't any record of her ever suffering or witnessing a traumatic event such as sexual violence, or violence of any kind, for that matter.   
  
   He still had to stop her before her M.O. evolved into actual killings, so he, himself, did some research on her next target. And sure enough, there had been a case made against him for sexually harassing one young secretary some years ago, but it lacked concrete proof, and it was dropped in a matter of days, hush money most likely involved, he concluded.  
  
   Bruce was convinced the Siren would attack him as soon as he came back from his family vacation, when he least expected, so he too made preparations for that night.   
  
-Three Nights Later-  
  
  
   I was perched atop the building in front of the luxury club my target was in with his friends. This guy was a CEO, his house was way too risky ground to pull off the job - it didn't have the best surveillance, after all, I did break in just a few nights ago, but his family would get caught in the cross fire. Besides, you can't really pull off this kind of job in such a nice neighborhood like you can in the bad part of town, not even if said town is Corrupt Gotham, the neighbors would alert the authorities as soon as they noticed the commotion.   
  
   This one sure made my blood boil, the day he comes home from a a family vacation, the very first thing he does is go out with his morally questionable friends to a gentleman's club. Isn't family just the most important thing for him?   
  
   He's been in there for 3 hours when he finally comes out, the valet arrives with his car, and leaves him. He's mildly drunk, I loop down from the rooftop and make it behind him before he gets in the car.   
  
   - Hello Mr. Stokes.   
  
   He turns around, his face sobering up quickly as he recognizes my mask.   
  
   - Siren!- he tries to get inside the car, but my knife comes close to his throat, too close for comfort.  
  
   - Not so fast there, Mr. Stokes, we have some business to take care off first.   
  
   The terror in his face remains but I can see him trying to regain his composure. And in the blink of an eye, he's no longer looking at me, he's looking up, and before I can see what can frighten him more than me at the moment, I feel an arm sneak around my waist and I'm being lift in the air back to a rooftop, and that's the last thing I see before there's something covering my eyes and mouth and a low raspy voice in my hear:  
  
   -Y/n L/n, we need to talk.   
  
   After that I was dragged into a car - most likely the Batmobil - and can only make out the general direction his driving.   
  
   When I can finally see again, I'm in the Batcave, the lair easily identifiable for all his weapons and tools were either in a bat shape or had it engraved. My inspection of the cave ends with my eyes landing on the man himself and a butler, Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne's Butler. I knew Bruce Wayne had to be somehow connected to the Bat, as a patron maybe, just didn't think he was the Bat himself.   
  
   - Good evening Ms. L/n. - the butler says, always polite.   
  
   - Y/n. - the Bat starts.  
  
   - Don't you Y/n me, Wayne! He got away because of you! Not only that, he knows I'm on to him now! He'll dispose of the only evidence that can prove he did it and he'll walk free, AGAIN! That girl will never have peace again, AND THAT'S ON YOU! - - my rant got louder with every word, I could barely hold in my anger at the moment, and I take off my mask and deep purple wig in my frustration. It's not like it was serving it's propose still.  
  
   - And you think that with what you'd do to him before turning him in wouldn't be enough to get him out? - he remains calm.  
  
   - Hasn´t been a problem until now, - I cross my arms over my chest - as I provide evidence of their crimes, and Gotham PD has nothing to go on for me, they prosecute them and just add more pages to my own file.  
  
   - This one is a big fish Y/n, mutilating him won't help your case.  
  
   - You talk like you haven't been branding your own victims yourself, Mr. High and Mighty, you have been doing just the same as I have, the only difference is that when yours get out - when they make it out - they go and do it all over again, while mine can't hurt others anymore.  
  
   - You have no control over what you're doing, you're no better than they are. - and he is still not fucking moving, like a great big Bat-Humanoid statue, I could shoot him right now.  
  
   - And you have? Because that's exercising loads of self-control when you brand them? Do you get off on it? - my hands have left my chest, I'm now gesticulating and my voice is raising again, but I simply can't help it, the man infuriates me with his moralism - and I never claimed I was better than any of them, but if you want to go there, none of my victims are innocent, while theirs were!  
  
   - What even is your motive for all of this? I simply can't find one.  
    
   What the actual fuck? Is this guy for real?  
  
   - Are you saying "they raped people" isn't a good enough reason for my work or that me not being a victim of rape myself makes me an illegitimate person for the job? - I cross my hands over my chest again and stomp my right foot on the floor repeatedly, waiting for an answer.  
  
   - I'm saying I don't see from where all the rage you put into it comes.  
  
   - Yeah, sorry, we can't all have a tragic back story, Wayne, but let me ask you something: ever felt afraid of walking home from work at night?  
  
   - Ugh.. no?  
  
   - But of course not! You're a big guy, anyone who tried to mug you would get his ass handed back to him. Even better, you don't even walk, you just take your fancy car from one place to another, - I use my hands to illustrate my point - but for any woman on the planet, walking home at night is a dangerous business, any guy who is walking by or behind you - he could be walking home from work too, thinking about his wife at home waiting for him, or how he's going to surprise his girlfriend, or even for how long hasn't his cat eaten - but for a woman he is a potential threat. You want to know why I'm doing this? Because I'm done being afraid Wayne, because I'm tired of living in fear of suffering at the hands of people like Stokes, and it's about time the Rape Culture meets it's end! - by the end of my speech I had stepped up to Wayne and was looking up to meet his eyes, he had yet to move, but he seemed to look at me with understanding eyes now. My own were ablaze with rage against all the time I lived in fear, and all that made - that still makes - this fear possible.  
  
   Batsy still doesn't move, though, and it's so fucking frustrating. I take a step back and turn around walking away from him.  
  
   - Why did you even bring me here for? - I ask, my voice notoriously calmer, as I pace around the cave. The butler is off to the side, just connecting some wires on what seems to be a new headpiece in some kind of metal, but I catch his eyes turning up to us to observe the situation ever so often.  
  
   - You can't keep this up. - the only part of his body that actually moved was his lips and I seriously want to punch him in his perfect teeth.  
  
   - And why is that? - I'm facing him directly again - Gotham is not yours to reign alone, I grew up in this city too, and while you're too busy chasing clowns, I diminish the population of rapists in this city.  
  
   - I'm just saying we can work together.  
  
   - And why, pray tell, would I accept to work with you, when you just ruined my biggest work yet? - I ask accusatory.  
  
   - How long did it take you to get info on Joseph Stokes?  
  
   - Three weeks, he knows how to hide his messes.  
  
   - It took us 2 hours.  
  
   - What? - my eyes widen for a second.  
  
   - We have resources, resources you would be able to use, and you need training.  
  
   - I'm doing just fine in that department, thank you.  
  
   - It's not what _this_ tells me - he reaches for one of the many pockets in his utility belt and shows me a necklace. My mother's necklace.  
  
   - Give it back!  
  
   - Come get it yourself if you think your training is enough to beat me.  
  
   I reach for my gun and aim to his head.  
  
   - Give. It. Back, Wayne. - my jaw is locked, my aim steady. The butler puts down the cables and is fully concentrated on me now.  
  
   - My suit is bulletproof, is yours? - his gaze is still calm as ever.  
  
   - Your suit may be, but your skin isn't, and there's some showing, your perfect teeth aren't enough to stop a bullet from reaching the first vertebrae of your spine. - I say matter-of-factly, unlocking the safety in my gun.  
  
   The butler moves, slowly, and steps into my line of sight, planting himself between my gun and his master.  
  
   - Now, Ms. L/n, I don't believe there is a need for that kind of violence here, we are simply having a conversation.  
  
   - Alfred, step away. - Bruce steps closer to us with caution.  
  
   - Mr. Pennyworth, kindly obey to your master and get out of my way, you are quite the charming fellow, wouldn't want to shoot you unless entirely necessary. - I tilt my head to the side slightly, my eyes fixed on him.  
  
   - I cannot, not while you're pointing a gun at him, Ms. L/n.  
  
   - I'll give you the necklace back when I know for sure you'll work with us, but stop pointing a gun at my butler please. - he comes around to my right, only a few feet away from me now, one hand raised in a calming motion.  
  
   I look at him, than to the butler, than back at him again, than sigh and lower the gun, locking the safety again and sliding it into my holster.  
  
   - Fine, I'll work with you, now give it back. - I extend my hand to Bruce, palm open and upwards, waiting.  
  
   Batsy shakes his head and places my necklace back into his pocket.  
  
   - I said I'd give it back when I'm sure you'll stay with us, if I give it to you now, you'll simply leave.  
  
   - Fuck you, Wayne.  
  
   - Language, Ms. L/n.  
  
   - It's English, Mr. Pennyworth. - I turn away from both of them, collect my wig and mask that i hadn't realized I had dropped on the nearest table and start walking towards the Batmobile - now, take me home, I do need to get up in the morning to go to work.  
  
   - Alfred will give you a ride - Bruce finally takes off his own mask.  
  
   The butler lead me from the cave to the house and into a beautiful Aston DB2/4 Mk3, I'm awestruck by the classic for a moment, Mr. Pennyworth notices but says nothing as he opens the door to the backseat for me. I get in and he closes the door and gets into the driver's seat, and wear off. the whole duration of the ride is silent, they knew my identity, so it's safe to assume they know my address too. He parks two blocks away from my building, so no one spots the car at my door. I get my wing and mask on again.  
  
   - Wouldn't it be better to return to you building as a civilian, Ms. L/n?  
  
   - Nobody saw me leave, the building has security cams, I'm using the fire escape to get to the rooftop. - I open the car door - toodles Mr. Pennyworth.  
  
   - Ms. L/n! - he turns back and handles me a phone that looks exactly like mine - it's so you can contact us, it's a secure line.  
  
   - Good Thinking, - I shove the phone into my pocket as I step out of the car - bye. - I close the door and head towards the beck of my building watching the car speed away.  
  
   How the hell will I work with them when the Siren is a symbol on it's own?


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for the long wait, I'm that kind of person that has at least half of the plot points thought out and a general idea on how the last scene will be but has no idea how they'll be be connected and just bullshits they way between them as I go, besides being mainly a smut writer, and I'm trying to write a good plot for you guys, so please pardon me. And real life happens too... Don't you guys just hate when real life gets in the way of your fictional life? Cuz, yeah, in case you haven't noticed, this is a shameless self-insert that I thought I should share because Alfred Pennyworth is a badass character that deserves love and I'm sure there are other readers who think so too. well, without further ado, there's more actual Alfred/Reader interaction in this chapter, enjoy :)

   The next day went by like any other day. That was until 10 minutes to closing time, which was at 19h, when the phone Wayne's butler gave me vibrated in my pocket: "Robinson Park, 19:30". Trust Wayne to think he can give you a last minute notice and expect you to be on time, I'll have to sprint home for my gym bag and to the park in 20 minutes, that would be impossible.

   I locked the door of the shop at 7pm sharp and marched home as fast as I could without actually breaking into a run. When I made it to the park, I was only a few minutes late. It didn't take me a minute to spot the classic Aston right away, and I wasted no time in getting in the front seat, placing my bag at my feet.

  
   - You're late, Ms L/n.- said the butler, in a manner of greeting.

  
   - You're the ones who didn't give a girl a heads up - I told him as I buckled up - I had to run home before I could get here, you know? At least let me know in the morning, unlike you guys, I actually have a life. 

   The rest of the ride was again silent, the butler didn't seem to talk much, at least unless he had to, which was quite a shame, as he has a lovely British accent.

 

   As we got to the Manor, Bruce was nowhere to be seen, which means he was either down in the cave or not home yet, I'd bet my money on the Cave since the butler was here, but I'm sure he could drive himself home while the butler does the house shores. Mr. Pennyworth lead me to the concealed elevator that went down to the cave and told me Wayne would be home in about 20 minutes and that I should change into something more training appropriated. The brit didn't come down with me - probably to prepare for his master's return - and I proceed to get to the Cave, and get out of my tulle skirt, than place my foot on a nearby chair to untie the t-strap on my black pumps, and unclip my seamed stocking from the gartedbelt, removing both and switching to do the same with the other leg.  
  
   Tea tray in hand, Alfred stood rooted to the ground as the doors of the lift parted and revealed Y/n's back as she got the stocking loose from it's clip. After a few seconds, the initial shock gone, he gave a fake cough as to alert her that she was no longer alone. She looks back at him and straightens up, not bothering to cover up as her white polka dotted blouse comes down to her bottom.  
  
   - I apologise for walking in on you undressing, Ms. L/n. - he walks into the Cave as politely as he can, given the situation.  
  
   - You told me to change, you didn't tell me where. - I pick up my skirt, shoes and discharged stocking.  
  
   - Must have slipped my mind, do forgive me. But there's a bathroom you can use, it's the third door on your right. - the butler puts down the tray and serves a cup of tea, keeping his eyes away from her semi-naked form.  
  
   - Don't sweat it - I tell him as I turn from him to pick my gym bag off the ground and walk to the bathroom, not being able to keep a smirk from appearing in my lips due to his obvious discomfort.  
  
   Changing into leggings and a sports bra takes less than five minutes and the butler has another cup of tea ready on the table, but is off on Wayne's weird Vertebrae chair. the computer screens showing the research he's conducting on one "White Portuguese".  
  
   - I didn't know how you like your tea so there's no sugar in it yet. - he doesn't turn from his work.  
  
   - Thanks - I put my gym bag in a corner and sit close to the butler drinking my now sweetened tea - Who's that?  
  
   - That's what we've been trying to find out - he keeps typing away, pulling more and more articles that contained next to none actual information on the subject.  
  
   We sit in comfortable silence as he works and I watch, my eyes quickly scanning every new page he opens as I quietly drink my tea.  
 

   - Evening - Wayne walks out of the elevator, already discharging his suit jacket.  
  
   - Good Evening, Master Bruce. - the butler turns from the computers.  
  
   - Evening, tea? - I smirk at him.  
  
   - Training. - Bruce answers removing his tie and undoing the first two buttons of his dress shirt, walks to the center of the Cave, a clearing with no gear, weapons or working tables and technology, - Hit me - he starts rolling up his sleeves.

  
   - Just like that? - I arch my eyebrow at him.  
  
   - Yes. - He doesn't look up from his sleeve-rolling hands.  
  
   Oh well, he asked for it. I run up to him and aim my closed fist at his face, he doesn't even need to look up to dodge. I immediately aim my other fist at his stomach, he blocks it easily. I kick at his side, he locks my foot by his side with his arm before griping my ankle firmly and sending me flying.

 

   I slide across the floor, groaning at the initial impact. I can spot the butler looking away from the computer screens to glance at me momentarily before going back to his research.  
  
   - Again. - is all Bruce says, not moving from where he's standing.  
  
   I get up and charge at him again. My attacks are easily read by Wayne again, and I end up flying across the room again. By the fifth time I end up on the floor, I'm pissed. So I get up, turn to him and - I thought you said we were going to train.  
  
   - This is training.

   - This is beating me to a pulp.  
  
   - That's just how bad your close combat skills are, it's the consequence of hiding behind a gun all time, Y/n. - it's his immediate answer.  
  
   - My best work is actually done with a knife, you know~? - i point out cheerfully, contrasting his serious tone.  
  
   - I wonder how, seeing how bad you are at close range.  
  
   - Anyone who needs to force themselves on someone else to feel in control is a coward, they are quite easy to scare.  
  
   - But not all criminals are cowards.  
  
   - Yeah, but those are part of your job, not mine.  
  
   - We have a partnership now, which means you will be helping me, which makes them your job too. Now, come at me.  
  
   I don't have a smartass comeback for that, so I do as he says. I charge at him again, aiming a punch at his stomach. He takes hold of my fist in one hand and I can't stop him from twisting my arm behind my back.  
  
   - Your moves are too easy to predict, your stance is completely open, you're lucky they were all cowards - Bruce scolds me before letting go of my arm - now that you understand your weak points, we can finally work on them. - And only then did he stop beating the living shit out of me and started teaching, working on my stance for the night.  
  
   At around eleven, Mr. Pennyworth called Bruce to the computers to show him some findings that looked promising.  
  
  
  
   - Master Bruce, I think it would be time for a meal break. You've been at it for three hours and she didn't have the time to eat since I picked her up. - Alfred tells Bruce in a hushed condescending tone, letting him know he's being too hard on Y/n for a first training session.  
  
   Bruce sat at the computer,already his eyes scanning the screens - Do you want to prepare dinner, Alfred?  
  
   - Most certainly, sir. You both need to eat.  
  
   - Something fast will do, take her with you to help you, I don't want her snooping around this yet - is Bruce's answer, his eyes never leaving the monitors as he talks to the butler.  
  
   - I thought you had a partnership, Master Bruce.  
  
   - Don't pull that one on me, Alfred, she's too green, I don't want her on this case yet.  
  
   - Whatever you say, sir - with that, Alfred leaves Bruce to his reading and approaches Y/n, who's still practicing the last exercise she was given - Ms. L/n, come with me, please.  
  
  
  
   I follow the butler into the lift - what can I help you with, Mr. Pennyworth? - we arrive the ground floor.  
  
   - Master Bruce wishes for you to help me in the kitchen, I'm getting quite old, you see? - he leads the way to the kitchen.  
  
   - You're not old, Mr. Pennyworth. Wayne just wants to go over whatever it is that you found by himself, talk about partnership. - I roll my eyes at Bruce's antics.  
  
   The Butler sighs but still gives me a small smile before: - You're quite right, Ms. L/n, but do stop calling me Mr. Pennyworth, it does make me feel old when you do. - and with that he starts getting the needed ingredients onto the counter.  
  
   - No Ms. L/n either than, it's weird... - I walk up to the counter myself, standing besides him - So, what do you want me to do?  
  
   - Ms. L/n, I---  
  
   - _Mr. Pennyworth. -_ I cut him off.  
  
   - _Ms. L/n_ , that would be unethical of a butler.  
  
   I shrug at him - Well, you're not _my_ butler, Mr. Pennyworth. Now, what do you want me to help you with?  
  
   The butler sighs defeated, - You win Ms. Y/n. You can chop the onions.  
  
   - Drop the Ms. too, Mr. Alfred. - I get to chopping.  
  
   - You're impossible.

   - Indeed I am.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.s: I entirely bullshitted my way throught that training, never wrote fighting or anything like it before, hope you enjoy it none the less.


End file.
